Heart of the Sandhills Read online

  “Is Nancy all right?” she asked.

  “She sleeps,” he said.

  “I can’t believe she managed what we—what we did today.”

  “Not many women could.” Robert’s voice was so filled with pride Gen wanted to cry.

  “At least she had Bones to ride on the way back,” she said weakly. “At least she didn’t have to walk all those miles twice.”

  Robert stood up and pulled the door of his cabin closed behind him. “You shouldn’t be walking alone tonight. Where is Aaron?”

  “He’s finishing his supper,” Gen said. “He thought—well, he thought maybe it embarrassed Daniel to have him be the one who came to get us.”

  Robert considered this. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll walk you up the hill. Aaron can finish eating.”

  Robert reached for his rifle. Gen tucked her hand under his arm. When they were halfway to the Grants’, Robert stopped abruptly and peered into the darkness toward the Grants’ barn. The moon came out from behind a bank of low clouds, illuminating the landscape just enough to reveal the outline of someone sitting on the rock ledge below the burial ground. Raising one hand to his mouth, Robert mimicked the hooting of an owl. When the call was returned, he nodded. He watched Gen climb the hill toward the ledge. Only when he saw Daniel reach out to her did he turn away and trot down the hill toward his cabin.

  They sat in silence for a long time just listening to the gurgling spring and feeling the night breeze blowing across their skin. Presently Gen got up and, walking around behind him, began to rub Daniel’s shoulders. After a few moments, she reached around to unbutton his shirt and slid her hands beneath the soft flannel, continuing to massage his shoulders and the back of his neck until she could feel the tension begin to flow out of him.

  “I didn’t know it would be so hard,” she finally said. And then, as if she had read his thoughts, she corrected them. “I don’t mean this trouble with Mr. Marsh. I mean—” she draped her arms around his shoulders and rested her chin atop his head. “I didn’t think it would be so hard to understand you.”

  For a moment he was still and then he reached up to catch her hands in his own and pull her down beside him. He laughed quietly and put his arm around her.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “We are sent running for our lives into the nearest ravine. Aaron arrives at the worst possible moment. Just down the hill our friend Robert is standing guard with a rifle. And instead of hiding in the house trembling with fear, my little wife worries because it is hard to understand her husband.” He paused. “Does that not seem—unusual—to you?”

  Gen sighed, resting her elbows on her knees, her chin atop her hands. “Of course I care about all those other things. And things you don’t even mention. I was worried for Nancy and the baby today. But Nancy is safe in her bed tonight.” Her voice wavered. “What might have happened to you, and what has happened—inside you—those are the things I worry most about.”

  He grunted softly. “Today only proved what I already knew to be true, Blue Eyes. I knew it in my heart, but I wanted to be like the warriors of old—the ones who decided where they would live and fought for the right to make it happen.” He leaned back against the cottonwood tree. “I wanted this to be home. Home where the railroad brings the children. Home where you can have quiltings with the other women. Home where our children and our children’s children grow strong and live good lives.”

  “That can still happen,” Gen whispered gently. “Aaron wants to have a meeting with those men who made the trouble today.”

  “Aaron is a good boy, but I don’t think anything he can say will make a difference to those men. Certainly not to Abner Marsh.”

  “Are you upset with him?” Gen asked.

  “Who?”

  “Aaron.”

  “Why would I be upset with Aaron?”

  “He said he shouldn’t have been the one to come find us and bring us back home. He thinks he should have let Jeb do that.” She studied Daniel’s profile in the moonlight. “I was so happy to see Aaron, I didn’t think about it. About how it made you feel.” She paused before saying, “It does matter to you. I should have understood that. I’m sorry.”

  Daniel shrugged. “Everything has come to be just as I thought it would. Aaron has come and found, not the warrior he remembers saving his life, but a weak man who cannot even protect his own wife.”

  “Stop that.” Gen said quickly. She put her hand on his knee. “That’s not who you are at all. I know it. So do the rest of us—Aaron included.”

  Daniel squeezed her hand. “It’s not just about what happened today, Blue Eyes. It’s everything about our lives now. It hurts me to see how far down you have come to be my wife. When you were Mrs. Dane, you lived on an estate in New York. Now we beg for the government to give us a little piece of land …” He traced the frayed edge of her shirt cuff. “Genevieve Dane wore fine clothing. Now you mend the rags you call dresses over and over again because I have no money—even for a few yards of calico.” He paused. ‘And now Aaron sees all of these things … and more. He sees Daniel Two Stars, the man who runs and hides instead of fighting for what should be his.” He anticipated her response and gently pressed his fingers against her lips. “I know, Blue Eyes. It doesn’t matter to you.” He sighed wearily and muttered, “But it matters to me.”

  “We have each other,” she said. “We have the friendship of some. And at least respect from the others. God has been good to us, Daniel. I am content.”

  “And will you still be content when Abner Marsh and his friends throw rocks at you and call you a sow or spit on you the way they did on Nancy the last time she was in town?”

  “I didn’t come back to Minnesota expecting life would be easy.”

  “Robert and Nancy want to go to the reservation in Nebraska. I am thinking you and Aaron can stay with the Grants while I ride up to Fort Ridgely to see if Captain Willets still needs scouts. Or maybe Aaron will want to go with me. If Captain Willets takes me on as a scout, you can go back to New York with Aaron for a while. You’ll be safe there.”

  “You—you want me to—go away?” Gen stammered. “But if you think we should go—why can’t we go to Nebraska with Robert and Nancy?”

  “Nebraska means a reservation and another farm. I hate farming, Blue Eyes. And I’ll never be very good at it.”

  “It would be different if it was yours,” she said.

  Releasing her hand, Daniel leaned forward. His words were laced with emotion as he said, “I don’t want to live waiting for the government to give me something. That’s what they do on the reservation. Wait for seed, wait for plows, wait for horses, wait for annuities.” He shook his head. “Captain Willets depended on me. He respected me; so did the other soldiers. Even the ones who hated Indians in general learned that I could be trusted.” He paused. “That was a good feeling.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Gen said abruptly.

  He shook his head. “No. I won’t have you living at a fort. You don’t know how soldiers treat Dakota women. Anything could happen.”

  “Scouting can’t be the only answer,” Gen pleaded. “It’s too dangerous. There has to be something else.”

  He got up wearily. “Don’t be a child, Genevieve. This is not one of those fairy tales you used to tell the children where the prince and his princess live happily-ever-after.”

  “Don’t call me a child!” Gen ignored her husband’s extended hand and leaped up.

  “Are you going to stomp your foot now?”

  The bitter sarcasm in her husband’s voice fed Gen’s anger and frustration. An inner warning flashed, but she was too upset to heed it. Instead, she gave herself to the drama of the moment and unleashed the tide of emotions broiling just beneath the surface. She backed away from him. “Fine. Send me away. All this time I thought I had brought you happiness. Now I see I’m just the thing that keeps you from doing what really makes you happy. I didn’t know you hated farming. I didn’t know you wanted to
go back to scouting, to wandering around the territory on horseback. I didn’t realize—” Her voice trembled with desperation. “I didn’t realize I was the reason for so much unhappiness.”

  Daniel had been prepared for anger, for the now-familiar stomping of a foot. Confronted by brokenness and the quiet desperation in his wife’s voice, he wished his mocking challenge back, but it was too late. In the moonlight he could see tears gathering in the great blue eyes he adored. ‘When they spilled down her cheeks, he reached for her. “I didn’t mean it that way. Don’t cry, little wife. Please—don’t—cry.” He meant to gather her into his arms, but she pushed him away.

  “Leave me alone,” she said. Resignation and weariness sounded in her next words. “We’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Aaron tonight. We can leave whenever you say.” Her voice wavered again. “Then you can do something that makes you happy.”

  Covering her face with her hands, she turned and ran down the path away from him. She could hear Daniel calling her name, but she kept running, down the hill, past the cabin, into the woods beyond. Her chest began to burn and she was gasping for breath when she tripped in a hole and fell. Daniel caught up with her, ignoring her struggle to push him away. Helpless, she became even more furious and renewed her efforts to break free, kicking and scratching at him until, exhausted, she fell back against him while he whispered her name in Dakota and covered her face with kisses.

  “We’ll find a way, Blue Eyes,” he said, choking back his own tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ll find a way.” He took her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his to silence her anger, murmuring promises until there was no more need for words.

  Later that night, after Gen gave Aaron his quilt, after Aaron and Daniel had discussed their plans for the summer, after Aaron insisted he would sleep in the barn, after Daniel and Gen made love, Gen laced her fingers through her husband’s and said quietly, “There’s something about New York you don’t understand. You have this mental image of how wonderful it must have been, but the truth is—” She paused, then said slowly, “The truth is I was always that Indian. No one ever thought about the part of me that spoke French or could recite Shakespeare. Everyone was nice because Mother Leighton and the children loved me. But I never really belonged. When I thought you were dead and Simon wanted me as his wife, I told God I would do whatever He asked. And I was happy enough. But New York was never home.” She raised her head to look into his eyes. “This is home.” She patted his chest. “Wherever you lodge, wherever you go. We just have to trust God to take care of us. Please, best beloved. Don’t send me away.”

  He covered her hand with his and squeezed it. “All right, Blue Eyes. I will learn to trust God to care for you at the fort while I am scouting … and you will learn to trust Him to care for me when I am gone.”

  “Where will we go?” she wanted to know.

  “Probably Fort Wadsworth in Dakota.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He told her what he could remember about the fort, built only a few years ago to defend the border of the civilized settlements against hostile Sioux from the West. “There was talk among some of the Christian scouts of starting a church two years ago. But Dakota is a hard place to live. And the fort—well, the fort can be terrible. There is always the call to drinking and wild living, and many of the men will answer it.”

  “You won’t,” Gen said quickly.

  “By God’s grace, I will not,” he agreed. “But everything there is different from what we have known.” He took a deep breath. “Dakota is a barren land compared to Minnesota, Blue Eyes. I have ridden for days at a time and never seen a tree. Can you imagine what that will be like after living all your life near the Big Woods?”

  “I shall plant trees,” Gen said.

  “What if it means you don’t get to see Meg or Hope next year? I don’t know if Elliot and Jane will want to bring them to such a wild place. Especially if there is trouble with the hostile Sioux out there.”

  “We will write letters and they will understand.” She kissed his cheek. “And when they do finally come, I’ll pray they have a little brother or sister to meet.” She snuggled next to him, singing softly, “Cling fast to me, you’ll ever have a plenty, cling fast to me, and you’ll ever have a plenty, cling fast to me.”

  Daniel nuzzled her ear. “Where did you learn that, little wife? Dakota men sing that when they are courting.”

  “My father used to sing it to my mother when I was little,” she said. “I used to dream of a tall, handsome stranger carrying me away on a white horse while he sang that song.”

  Daniel sang back to her, “Wherever we choose, together we’ll dwell … mother so says.” Then he changed the words, laughing softly. “Wherever we choose, together we’ll dwell, Blue Eyes so says.” He teased her. “And all the time I thought the Scriptures told the wife to be submissive to the husband.”

  “They do,” Gen said. “But God also told Abraham to listen to his wife Sarah on occasion.”

  “Once,” Daniel said. “He said that once.”

  “Then this will be our ‘once,’ was the answer. “The one time you listen to me will be now, when I say you must not send me away.” She raised her head off his shoulder. “Do you think we could convince Robert and Nancy to come with us to Fort Wadsworth instead of going to Nebraska?”

  “I think, little wife,” Daniel said quietly, “that you have done quite enough plotting for one night.” He kissed her fiercely, and for a few moments in the night neither threats from neighbors, nor barren lands, nor Robert, nor Nancy, mattered in the least.

  Ten

  The wicked in his pride doth persecute the poor …

  —Psalm 10:2

  “I’m sorry, Papa,” Polly Marsh pleaded, cowering away from her father. “I won’t say it again.”

  “See that you don’t,” Abner snapped. Releasing his hold on Polly’s upper arm he shoved her away. “I don’t want to hear any more about Aaron Dane! I put up with it long enough and now I’m puttin’ my foot down.” He glared at his wife. “The Marshes don’t have nothin’ to do with Injun lovers. Let Marjorie Grant take care of her own brats. And tell that boy if he comes snooping around my daughter again, I’ll set my dogs on him!”

  “Oh, Abner,” Sally said, clucking her tongue. “Mrs. Grant just wanted the girls to watch the twins for the afternoon. She didn’t want to burden Genevieve and Nancy, what with Nancy’s baby coming any day now. Aaron’s driving her by on their way into New Ulm. You let the girls go to the Grants’ before. ‘What’s wrong with—?”

  Before Sally could finish the sentence, Abner slapped her. “I’ll not have my own wife disrespecting me in front of my own daughters!” he growled.

  Sally lifted her hand to her cheek and stared at her husband in terrified silence. When Polly began to cry, Abner turned toward her in fury. Sally grabbed her daughter and pulled her close. “I’m all right, Polly. Papa didn’t mean it.”

  “I did mean it!” Abner leered at them both. “And you’ll get worse if you don’t learn to respect me and do as I say!” He bolted from the house and disappeared behind, the barn.

  Trembling, Sally Marsh sank into a chair. Polly pumped cold water onto a rag and handed it to her mother, who lay it over her cheek where a purplish hue was already beginning to color the swollen place just above her left cheekbone.

  “What’s wrong with Papa?” Polly croaked, handing her mother a glass of water and sinking into the chair beside her. “He—he’s been letting you go to quilting with those women. And he let Mr. Lawrence finish the railing. I thought he liked Aaron. What’s wrong now?”

  “I don’t know,” Sally managed before tears spilled down her cheeks. She closed her eyes. “Just do as Papa says, Polly. Don’t argue with him. Things will be better if we just do as he says.” She stood up. “Get your sister and the two of you go on out and feed the chickens. When you come back in, if I’m not up, come and get me. I’m just going to go lie down for a minute and
collect myself.”

  Without waiting for her daughter to answer, Sally wobbled up the stairs and collapsed on her bed, terrified. It was coming true. Everything her parents had warned her about was happening. They had told her of Abner’s father’s dark moods, of his raging temper. But Abner isn’t like that, Sally had insisted. He’s the sweetest, gentlest boy. He never gets angry. And by the end of the month Sally had run off with Abner. That had been well over a dozen years ago. As she lay in bed trembling, Sally Marsh closed her eyes against the truth.

  Out in the barn, Abner once again emptied the contents of the bucket. It had become almost a ritual for him, this counting of bones, the arranging of them in just the right position on the floor before his dogs’ cages. He always placed the skull last, in the center, with the hollowed-out eye cavities facing him. He backed away and crouched down on his haunches, thinking. He’d fooled everyone into believing he’d come to terms with the neighbors. Letting Sally go to quilting and having the older buck finish their railing had all been part of his plan. He’d even let Polly flirt with Aaron Dane. He congratulated himself on his brilliance. He pictured the Injuns worrying over headless chickens and dead raccoons, knowing he hadn’t once left a trail and that everything he did in the open made it appear he was a converted Injun-lover. Yep, Abner thought, when he made his move, everyone would be surprised.

  He stared at the bones, thinking. His dogs watched him, their ears alert, their noses resting on their front paws. Finally, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. He knew exactly what to do. It would work, too. And they wouldn’t be able to come back at him with any kind of law. But when it was all said and done, the Injuns would be gone and the county would be safe again.

  He must move quickly, though. He wished the youngster from New York would leave, but Polly had already said—with a much-too happy expression on her face—that Aaron was going to stay the summer. Too bad. On the other hand, maybe he’d learn the real meaning of choosing sides with the thieving Sioux.